


Between The Lines

by define_serenity



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Teen Wolf (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Twilight Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arrow - Freeform, Bad Boy Blaine, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Dalton Academy, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Drunken Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, Freckles, Grocery Shopping, Haircuts, Holding Hands, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jealousy, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Makeup, Moving In Together, NYADA, Neck Kissing, Pets, Pillow Talk, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Rain, Reaction, Revenge Sex, Secret Identity, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Snow, Snowball Fight, Stargazing, Superheroes, Underage Kissing, Valentine's Day, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 19,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/define_serenity/pseuds/define_serenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of Seblaine drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. after the proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5x01 reaction fic

In his imagination, Blaine comes looking for him after the whole circus is over, it’s a place where hope lives in between the lines, convenient omissions reasons to hold onto a glimmer of it, however fleeting.

Blaine, of course, is off celebrating with his new fiancé and the rest of his misguided peers, so the doors to the senior commons don’t open, Blaine doesn’t come in to say, “I’ve been looking for you,” and he doesn’t stutter a chocked, “You took my hand.”

"What?" it’s not Blaine who says it, there’s no one there, it’s hope personified that receives the reiteration: "When we met. You took my hand."

Silence scoffs, “You introduced yourself, I–”

"No," he never gets the chance to say it, he messed up and Blaine never got to see how hard he worked to change all that, to become the boy he had the potential to be, the boy that Blaine deserved, a boy who didn’t just want Blaine, but wanted to be overexposed to everything he was.

A boy who’d fallen in love without meaning to.

And Blaine’s not there to feel guilty once he realizes what he’s talking about, or deny that there was anything between them, so hope remains alive, perched in his heart to berate him another day, instead of taking a, “That wasn’t the same thing.”

Because it was, exactly the same gesture and he’s come to hate it, how the one person he’s fought to earn is the one he can’t have. It becomes a downward spiral into what-ifs and maybes, and hope runs down one of his cheeks, curling under his chin, dropping to the floor.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	2. the first time rewrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coda to 3x05, **The First Time**

“Well, I gotta run,” Sebastian says, ending their conversation a good hour after they sat down, the coffee cups on the table between them empty, but his stomach filled with butterflies. “Lacrosse practice,” he explains, before his eyes narrow on him. “But–could we meet again?” he asks, and he’s giving it every ounce of strength he has not to focus on Sebastian’s lips and the way they curve into a half smile. “I could really use some more insights from you, Blaine. You know, Warbler to Warbler.”

And at the puckery curl of those lips his entire body turns sort of gooey, and all he manages is a stuttered, “S-sure,” before watching Sebastian pack his things together, throw him one final wink, and walk past him–his body’s shaking, not from the cold, but that kind of inside-cold you sometimes get when your insides are trying to tell you something your brain refuses to admit.

He puts a hand to his chin, maybe to see if he’s all still there, but then suddenly he’s up out of the chair like his subconscious is playing him like a hand puppet. He runs after his fantastically flirty new boy in familiar hallways and hushes a “Sebastian, wait,” he’s not even sure Sebastian hears over the sound his footsteps make.

But Sebastian turns around all the same and doesn’t get the time to react, because next thing he has a hand hooked around Sebastian’s neck and their lips meet, his feet straining to get him high enough to even reach him, loafers squeaking on the floor. Sebastian lets out a surprised ‘hmpf’ before his bag slides off his shoulder and he leans in a little, giving them more room to move.

Sebastian’s hands dig hard into his hips, but the discomfort is blotted out by the rush quivering from the tips of his toes all the way up to his lips, especially once Sebastian pulls him closer and fits their bodies together like two sides of the same coin. He pushes his tongue past Sebastian’s teeth and the taller boy moans, the static flittering below his waist.

He’s never kissed or been kissed quite like this before, there’s no reason or rhyme behind it, just the unadulterated sense of feeling something deeper, something stronger than himself.

He pulls back and lands on his heels, leaving behind swollen sun-kissed lips and one seriously senseless Dalton Warbler. He can’t contain the grin that splits across his face.

He trails backwards away from Sebastian, who’s blinking stunned and aroused.

“Have fun at lacrosse practice,” he says, while biting his lips to recapture the taste of Sebastian’s.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	3. haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine reacts to Sebastian's new haircut.

"Seb-" No, it can’t be, can it? "Sebastian?" he asks, but there are those shoulders covered in that uniform and he’d recognize Sebastian’s lean built everywhere-though he’s none too sure why that is.

Sebastian turns around, drawls that smooth grin the moment recognition sets in, and smiles a "Hey, killer," that’s still entirely too familiar. 

He blinks, once, twice,  _three times_. “What did you do to your hair?”

Sebastian draws a hand back and forth over his short-cropped hair and smiles. “You don’t like it?”

"No, I-" He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why he’d be bothered by Sebastian’s  _haircut_  of all things, “It looks great.” He hopes his voice sounds steadier than it feels, but there’s something missing between them, and he sincerely hopes it has nothing to do with Sebastian’s _missing hair_. 

But damn, Sebastian looks  _younger_ , like he could still pass as a freshman even after the two years that have passed-there’s an innocent confidence inside the combination of it all that has him staring longer than he intends to. 

Last time he saw Sebastian his hair was too long, but what would possess him to cut it _all_  off? Not that he’s ever credited Sebastian with a keen fashion sense. 

"You’re a terrible liar," Sebastian whispers, and he can’t help the heat that reaches up his cheeks. "Always knew you were the kind of guy who needed something to hold onto."

“ _Sebastian_ ,” he hisses.


	4. favorite spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their favorite spot at Dalton.

Sebastian kisses him, lazy and sweet, but it sears somewhere deeper beneath his skin, past any reservations and self-conscious thought about getting caught making out with his boyfriend in the halls of Dalton Academy.

Footsteps resound, clatter down the steps of the winding staircase and down the hallway tiles, a background flutter and static to Sebastian’s thumb softly caressing at his cheekbones, their lips reacquainting themselves with warm skin quickly turning a sun-kissed red.

The bell rings, but neither of them stop, they know neither of them will until one of the Warblers comes and finds them in their not-so-secret and not-so-secluded corner of the school – Sebastian’ll still press a longing kiss to his lips that’ll linger throughout Warbler practice, throughout the day, until they start all over, somewhere else.

 

**\- fin -**

 


	5. holding hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: holding hands.

A tear runs aimless down his cheek, solemn in a place that expects nothing but and he takes in a deep breath to stop more tears from flowing, hide the pain behind lock and key, because all eyes have turned to him, pity reflected in all of them–some of them expect him to break down, others hope he’ll persevere.

He’s been bleeding raw since it happened, crying, screaming, and now he’s left with the stark emptiness that remains after a loved one has been ripped away–she’s gone and she’s not coming back, he’s left alone with a father he sometimes wonders loves him at all and,  _and what else_?

The answer is a hand sliding down into his, fingers slotting and aimless circles drawn into his skin–he closes his eyes, another tear escapes, but the simple warmth of small touches have been everything keeping him together this past week, arms around him and lips at his temple, soft whispers he couldn’t make out but soothed nonetheless. 


	6. jealous Blaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: jealous Blaine.

He cries his release two whole hours after he and Blaine stumbled into the apartment, hips bucking frantic and shooting into Blaine’s ass, while his fingers clutch haphazard at his boyfriend’s hips, his orgasm stuttering through him only intensified once Blaine moans his name and comes all over his chest in hot spurts. 

He’s been marked all over, bite marks on his ass where Blaine hadn’t been able to help himself, latent bruises on his hips, fingernails in his back, and hickeys littered down his neck–it’s his fault, really, he shouldn’t have flirted with another guy on the dance floor in an effort to coax a reaction out of his boyfriend. 

"Mine," Blaine whispers once he sinks boneless down on him, sucking another hickey over his collarbone.


	7. snowball fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: snowball fight.

The first hits Sebastian square in the forehead, and he watches him bend over as he shakes out his hair like a dog fresh out of water–he giggles but shows no mercy, preparing a second snowball after he takes one in the knee.

He squeals when the next one hits his right temple, and he taps the other side of his head in an attempt to get the water out of his ear–their snow ball fights always end up with one of them acting like a sore loser, but with the promise of stripping each other down right before a hot shower once they’re back inside. 

His third, and most unforgiving, hits Sebastian in the back of the head, the ice melting in his hair, flakes racing down his neck and he doubles over laughing once Sebastian starts jumping around, icy water having found its way past his scarf, inside his shirt, and down his back. 


	8. alternate reality: NYADA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Sebastian and Blaine at NYADA.

A hand sneaks hot around his waist, a body pressing up against him from behind and he doesn’t need to think twice who it is: Sebastian Smythe, Cassandra July’s new TA, overstepping his boundaries once again. 

"Start the movement from your hips," Sebastian’s breath fans hot against his ear, hand settling dangerously low on his abdomen, adding pressure once Sebastian’s body turns him into the movement, his hips spinning a half circle along with the taller boy’s. 

Heat races down his spine realizing he can feel the outline of Sebastian’s dick pressed up against his ass and he’s aching for Sebastian’s hand to travel lower. 

"Alright there, Anderson?" Cassandra asks. 

He swallows hard, but nods, hoping his sweatpants hide any and all trace of what Sebastian’s putting him through. 


	9. arrow au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Arrow!AU) Sebastian and Blaine as Tommy and Laurel.

“You look handsome,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans into the doorway, quietly appreciative of the way Sebastian’s tuxedo stretches around his broad shoulders. Sebastian stands in front of his bedroom mirror, fumbling with his bowtie, and he’s struck with the minute sensation that’s been digging ever deeper into his heart: he’s falling in love with this man.

“I try not to,” –Sebastian smiles–, “but it keeps happening.”

He chuckles and walks over, waiting for Sebastian to turn around before he helps him knot his bowtie properly. They’ve come a long way, from becoming friends because of Oliver to supporting each other after they thought Oliver was lost forever–they’d slept together a few times, no labels and no questions asked, they were just two friends who’d gone through a terrible loss, and Sebastian was the only one who could possibly understand how he felt.

And that arrangement suited them both fine, until Sebastian confessed there could be something more, and they’d be remiss to let it slip through their fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, tightening the bow, hands sliding down Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian shrugs half-heartedly. “I decided to go to my dad’s thing.”

He blinks up at Sebastian, but his green eyes beg him not to ask for an explanation–Sebastian’s relationship with his father had never been great. After his mother died his father pulled away and never showed Sebastian a great deal of affection, and it’d only gotten worse in recent months. Sebastian’s father had deemed it necessary to take away his trust fund so he could learn responsibility the hard way, and Sebastian was far from forgiving his father.

But he doesn’t ask what triggered this sudden decision, he wants to be supportive without pushing Sebastian into something he might not be ready for. “Do you want me to go with you?” he asks instead, more and more comfortable with the idea that he’s Sebastian’s  _boyfriend_.

“That’s okay,” Sebastian says softly, pushing a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	10. superhero au (flash seb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (superhero!au), prequel to [I See You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1149474)

The lack of light in the alleyway turns The Flash’s costume almost dark and sinister, an ominous indication of what the night will bring. The City’s in uproar all around them, somewhere downtown a gas truck exploded and The Flash barely saved him from a second blast, his ears buzzing in the aftermath.

“Goodbye, Blaine,” The Flash says, and it lacks its usual playfulness, not the  _See you later, killer_  that he’s gotten so used to, but a forlorn utterance that holds little hope. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

In that moment he realizes what the goodbye means, that it’s meant to be a final one, Professor Zoom’s latest experiment could prove the city’s undoing and the only man who can stop it stands uncertain in front of him. Why would he give up? Why would he believe this isn’t something he’ll survive?

The Flash turns around, hands balled into fists, and words explode out of him. “The City needs you!” he shouts, watching the dark figure that’s come to mean so much to him hesitate, as if he needs to hear him out before facing this evil. “ _I need you_ ,” he adds, “more than I could ever say, and I think you know that.”

“Blaine–” The Flash’s deep voice sounds, laced with the weight of his duty.

“Don’t you dare say goodbye to me,” he almost whispers, his voice gone in a wistful attempt to keep a man he cares for right here with him. He doesn’t love The Flash the way he loves Sebastian, but they have a bond deeper than any words could convey. “Not like this.”

The Flash turns to face him again and closes the distance between them, his hands are on his face before he’s processed what’s going on, but any fight leaves him when The Flash’s lips touch his, when his lips part and his fingers dig into red fabric, feel the tight muscles underneath the polyester. It’s a kiss unlike any other, filled with a wish for tomorrow, a desperation for the unknown, a secret yet to be deciphered.

“I’m sorry,” The Flash says softly, his lips, his hands, his body,  _gone_ , and when he opens his eyes he’s alone in a dark alley, left with a sense of wonder. Because how could he not recognize that kiss?

“Sebastian,” he whispers.

 

 

**\- fin -**


	11. game of thrones au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: **Game of Thrones**. Sebastian and Blaine as Drogo and Daenerys.

Next time Sebastian enters his tent, he tries to heed Sam’s advice, maintains eye contact as Sebastian pushes through the curtains stark naked, devouring him with his eyes. In those few sparse seconds he’s reminded of the pain of being taken, of being thrown aside like a ragdoll once the Great Kahl has finished, and he decides no more. He stands as Kahl now too, a King among the Dothraki, and he will not be treated like a slave.

He lies naked underneath the silk sheet, one of the few luxuries he’d begged to keep, and he’s prepared himself, opened himself up with his fingers in a way Sebastian often rushes in the haste for his own pleasure. Sebastian approaches and he shivers, tries to push away the fantasies he had as a young boy, of marrying a prince who’d take him home, who’d be soft and gentle and worthy of his love.

Yet he feels ready now, to tear at the mighty Khal and make him belong to him, if only in this tent–there must be more than this, a man like Sebastian must wish for a break from his routine, to be taken care of instead of conquering all the time.

Sebastian pulls at the sheet and he’s naked once more, his shame a distant whisper he lost several moons ago. His eyes don’t leave Sebastian, even though his husband takes the time to appreciate his body, until he grabs his arm and attempts to force him on all fours.

“No,” he says, a word Sebastian understands in the common tongue all too well, but he receives another shove, harder this time. “No!” he insists, and Sebastian grows more violent, so he sits up on his knees, coming eye to eye with the great Kahl. If it’s true what Sam said, that powerful men like what they’ve never had, then he knows what to do.

“ _Tonight_ ,” he whispers in broken Dothraki, his heart beating up a storm, “ _I would look upon your face_.”

A hint of hesitation ghosts over Sebastian’s face, and he decides that’s his way in, he will make Sebastian like what he has to offer, he will learn the power in pleasure himself.

Sebastian will be his, and he will be Sebastian’s.

He eases Sebastian onto his back, some semblance of the warrior making his muscles tense and protest, but he goes willingly, silently, the only sounds in the room their labored breathing and the fire crackling all around them. His heart races so hard he fears it might beat right out of his chest, but he will see this through, make Sebastian happy.

Sebastian regards him in silence as he straddles his hips, slicking him in the same oil he’d readied himself with, and for the first time since he met Sebastian a glimmer of passion courses through him–he lowers himself onto Sebastian and slowly takes him all the way in, stilling when Sebastian’s all the way inside.

He breathes through the initial pain, circling his hips, which earns him a deep moan from the body beneath him. So he continues along those same lines, his body writhing on top of Sebastian, his pain making way for pleasure he’s not felt before, travelling up his spine, burning into his skin when Sebastian places his hands on his hips, guiding his movements. His eyes dig deeper into Sebastian’s, begging for more, creating something between them he’s longed for all along.

Sebastian sits up and winds his arms around him, angling himself differently and he whimpers for the first time, a mannerism Sebastian will know how to translate–they move in unison, lips hovering close together but neither wants to lose sight of the other, so they don’t kiss, Sebastian simply thrusts shallowly inside him, tracing his skin with his fingers, muttering words in a language he doesn’t yet understand. But he’ll learn.

They’ll learn.


	12. teen wolf au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Teen Wolf!AU) Sebastian and Blaine as Isaac and Allison (or smth like it)

Several heavy volumes of old texts lay sprawled over his bed, but he’s only been able to make sense of a few obscure Latin phrases. His eyes hurt and there’s a kink in his neck that needs tending to, but he still hopes to find some clue that might point to what’s going on.

Sebastian comes in through the door, looking no better than he feels. “Find anything?”

“References to flies carrying messages to the dead.” He turns another page, barely glancing up from his notes, about ready to admit defeat. His brother’s much better at this; he might even know what they’re dealing with without having to look it up, but unfortunately Cooper was out of town running an errand, and he hadn’t been able to reach him all day. Which meant it was up to him to figure things out–normally he’d ask Tina for help, but she was out catching the sound of flies with Sam.

So Sebastian had showed up a few hours ago; he’d electrified himself on the new safety feature he’d added to the windows –serves him right for never using the front door– and worked in Cooper’s office for most of the night.

“What about you?”

Sebastian sits down on the bed behind him and shows him a page he printed. “Beelzebub,” he says. “The lord of the flies.”

Sebastian’s shoulder grazes his back, and he becomes acutely aware of how close they are, reminded of all the times Sebastian’s grabbed his hand or arm, or stared at him with those beautiful green eyes in a way he refuses to think about. Because they’ve been getting closer these past few weeks, Sebastian never passing up the opportunity to play with the distance between their bodies, and he’s been tersely rejecting any more explicit thoughts that tried to force his way into his fantasies.  

Because he can’t.

He slowly turns his head to catch Sebastian’s eyes, but once he has, Sebastian’s staring right at his lips–something hot and heavy traces down to his stomach and settles in his thighs. His lips part and he feels like he should maybe open his legs a little more to get more breathing room, his dick showing more interest than he cares to admit. For a split second he forgets why this is a terrible idea, what exactly Sebastian is, and Sebastian leans in.

He pulls back. “Are you serious?”

Green eyes blink up at him. “What?”

“You were trying to kiss me.”

“No,” Sebastian huffs, but doesn’t relinquish an inch of space. “I wasn’t.”

He can’t help the heat that spreads to his cheeks. “Then what were you trying to do? Headbutt me?”

Sebastian licks his lips, which doesn’t go unnoticed by very specific parts of his anatomy. “Okay, maybe I was trying to kiss you.”

Once the words make it past Sebastian’s lips he almost leaps off the bed, as if the confession gives him permission to be upset. “Are you completely totally out of your mind? You actually think I would wanna kiss you?”

And god yes, of course he’s thought about it, his fantasies about Sebastian have seeped into dreams where they’re both half naked and panting on the bed, he runs his hands over Sebastian’s smooth chest, toned from lacrosse while Sebastian’s lips trace down his neck, his chest, one hand sneaking into his pants until he’s so hard it hurts. He’ll toss and moan and shiver–

But he can’t.

“Why would I wanna kiss any other werewolf again?”

That’s what it boils down to, he got in too deep with Sam, gave him his heart and his loyalty and even though none of it was Sam’s fault he’s lost people, saw them cut down in front of him by a deranged alpha werewolf and his dreams are now haunted by those images forever. The past year has been a non-stop rollercoaster of the most extreme emotions, good ones as much as bad ones, and–

No, he tries so hard to shut Sebastian out, allows for silence to wax into awkwardness so he backs off and Sebastian’s never followed through up until now. He wants to, deep down he doesn’t give a damn that Sebastian’s a werewolf like Sam, because his best friend’s  _a banshee_  and he watched Mike become  _a kanima_ and he’s  _a hunter_  of all things, but could his heart really take it?

Something in Sebastian’s eyes shifts, the atmosphere in the room rife with tension and a look he’d almost call hurt. And that’s about the last thing he wants to put Sebastian through.

“Because trust me, I would–” he stutters. “I would never kiss– you.  _Never_.”

“Never,” Sebastian says, slowly getting up from the bed.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Alright, fine.” Sebastian shrugs. “I don’t want to kiss you either.”

Only that’s not true, is it, if anything Sebastian’s even more into this than he is, he hasn’t exactly been subtle about his interest. So what is this?

But what this is becomes even less clear once Sebastian reaches back for the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the bed. His pulse skyrockets and a breath shivers out of him, eyes caressing down Sebastian’s chest, smooth and tan, exactly like he imagined.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, a challenge, a question, he’s not sure.

But he responds by taking his shirt off too.

He stands awkwardly for a moment, his shirt in one hand while the other’s tempted to readjust his pants, which are getting increasingly tighter, but he doesn’t want to give Sebastian the satisfaction of knowing exactly what he’s doing to him. Sebastian’s gaze sweeps down his body before finding his eyes again, darkened and lustful this time, and he swallows hard. This isn’t something he’ll get out of with any dignity, unless–

He drops his shirt to the floor, and walks over to Sebastian with no hesitation whatsoever. He reaches up and pulls Sebastian down by the neck, their lips meeting in shocked awe, Sebastian’s lips parting against his and their bodies melting together, Sebastian’s skin warmer than he could’ve imagined. He takes hold of Sebastian’s hand and brings it down to his waist, where Sebastian doesn’t hesitate to slide it down over the curve of his ass.

Sebastian licks into his mouth as his fingers tighten in his hair, their bodies so impossibly close he can feel just how hard he is too; Sebastian bites down his neck and he hisses, the pressure almost too much.

Until Cooper storms into his room.

“Blainey–” Cooper recoils instantly. “Oh my God!”

He releases Sebastian’s lips.

“Not another werewolf!” Cooper cries.


	13. twilight au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Twilight!AU) Sebastian and Blaine as Edward and Bella (movie!verse)

The forest floor cracks sharply beneath his sneakers, dead leaves and dark soil soggy from the heavy rainfall last night, the sun ineffective through the thick foliage overhead. His feet carry him deeper into the woods, further from the school than he should care for, but he’s only aware of the boy following behind, silent but willing, the evanescent shadow at his back.

 _Sebastian Smythe_.

There’s something reverent in the thought alone, it recalls that first glance in the cafeteria, the breath knocked out of him at the sight of the bronze-haired stranger, the graceful drawl in his step, his skin almost luminescent. And Sebastian has been there ever since, watching from the periphery.

He comes to a standstill in a clearing, his breath condensing into fog, a chill tiptoeing up his spine.

“Why are we here, Blaine?”

There’s no urgency to Sebastian’s question, but he brought them here for a purpose, far away from any prying eyes or ears, far enough from Sebastian’s brothers and sisters, and not for the first time a frightening thought flits through him. _Should he allow himself to be alone with Sebastian?_

He balls his hands into fists, shakes off the unease. He knows why they’re here. He needs to know the truth.

“You're impossibly fast and strong,” he says, recalling how Sebastian had appeared between him and the car hurtling his way–Sebastian had been on the other side of the parking lot only a second before, he’s certain of it, that wasn’t his imagination or the shock talking. Sebastian had held back the car with one hand.

“Your skin is pale white and ice cold.”

So much lighter than his own skin. So utterly incompatible.

“Your eyes change color.”

That first day in biology they’d been black, his pupils shot so wide it made his irises disappear, a hunger inside them he’d never experienced–Sebastian hadn’t stopped staring, never quite did now. But when Sebastian returned to school a few weeks later his eyes had melted into a golden-brown, somehow unbefitting his beautiful face. They weren’t his natural color.

“You never eat or drink anything. You don't go in the sunlight,” –he runs down the mental checklist he’d realized yesterday, new light shed on every strange occurrence since his move to Forks– “And sometimes you speak like you're from a different time.”

A sickening silence follows, one that leaves his head spinning when Sebastian fails to refute his theory.

“How old are you?”

“I’m a junior in high school,” Sebastian answers, his voice silky smooth. “Just like you.”

“How long have you been a junior?”

In the time it takes Sebastian to answer the air turns sad and melancholy, like it recognizes the longing in his heart and takes pity on him–they turned up quite unexpected, his feelings for Sebastian, but somewhere along the way, during their quiet conversations at school and Sebastian’s overbearing protectiveness, he accepted that they were there, and they were there to stay. Sebastian made him feel safe, and he hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

“A while,” Sebastian answers, and he guesses something in his heartbeat must code _I know what you are_ , because Sebastian tracks a step closer, respectful of the distance between them, but a bite to his voice when he utters, “ _Say it_.”

And he doesn’t want to, it doesn’t matter to him what kind of creature Sebastian turned out to be, because he’s saved his life twice now, he protected him from reliving other traumatic high school memories and he doesn’t care what his motivations were. Sebastian was there, in a way that no one ever has.

“Out loud,” Sebastian insists.

He closes his eyes, shuts out a reality where it needs to be spoken. “You’re a vampire,” he says, but opens his eyes to a changed world all the same. No matter how hard he tries from now on that word will always be there, but why would he need that word, why would Sebastian need that label when his heart already feels a truth so entirely undefinable. He’s in love with Sebastian.

“Are you afraid?”

A calm washes over him that shouldn’t make sense, his fight-or-flight response should have kicked in long ago, but as he turns around, as his eyes find Sebastian’s flawless face and eyes like honey, he’s anchored in place by the most particular sensation. _Safety_.

“No,” he breathes.

Something sad touches Sebastian’s eyes and he pulls closer, his hands reaching up for Sebastian’s face, but Sebastian stops him.

“Than ask me the most basic question,” Sebastian begs, his hands clutched between his ice-cold ones. “What do we eat?”

But no, he won’t name that, he won’t call that out, it’s utterly unthinkable.

“You won't hurt me,” he says softly, and that’s a truth that burns through him hotter than any other.

Sebastian smiles sadly. “You are so wonderfully human,” he says, and touches his forehead to his–they stand like that for what feels like hours, the wind rustling through the trees, a wolf howling in the distance, the two of them, as one.


	14. insecure Blaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> insecure!Blaine + supportive!Sebastian

"I’m not good enough," he sighs, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes the same way they have for days, weeks,  _months_? but for the first time he lets them show –he doesn’t like to cry in front of people, show weakness some might choose to exploit, see his insides on the outside; and once they spill there’s no puzzling them back together.

Thankfully, Sebastian grants him the courtesy of a pep talk, rather than a sermon. “You, Blaine Anderson,” he starts, slowly gathering him up in his arms, his lips pressing up against his temple, “have been a star from the day you were born. You work your ass off every damn day. You graduated with honors from one of the best performing arts schools in the country. You’re handsome, and you have a modestly good-looking boyfriend to boot.”

He giggles through his tears.

"You deserve this, Blaine. More than anyone."

"I love you," he whimpers, turning tighter into Sebastian’s body, not too shy about milking this for all that it’s worth. There’s nothing wrong with needing a little validation sometimes, and Sebastian’s so good at calming him down.

Sebastian kisses his forehead. “I love you too, B.”


	15. alarm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: alarm

"Did you just–” –panic starts his heart beating frantic, and watching how his boyfriend’s fingers carelessly slip off the red handle of the fire alarm isn’t exactly helping him keep his calm. They could get into so much trouble.

Sebastian grabs his hand as students start pouring out of classrooms left and right, and soon they’re swept up in a coordinated swell of blue blazers. “I told you I’d get you alone today.” Sebastian winks.

"If I’d known you were willing to commit a small misdemeanor to see me I would’ve come over last night."

Sebastian pushes a kiss to his lips, in full view of the entire student body and faculty. “The more you know,” he grins.


	16. jealous Sebastian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jealous!Sebastian

"We are never going to a gay bar in this city again," Sebastian mutters to his lips, treading them backwards towards the bed.

He snorts, lovingly shaking his head while he allows Sebastian’s hands to catch clumsily at his shirt, but it isn’t too long before he decides enough’s enough and he peels it off himself.

"Never again!" Sebastian calls, and pushes him onto the bed. Sebastian takes off his own shirt and crawls onto the sheets, straddling his lap in the process. 

So, he might’ve let a guy or two put their hands on him after Sebastian tersely refused to dance, but what’s a guy to do at a club, with a boyfriend who knows all too well he  _loves to dance_. 

"This," –Sebastian trails kisses down his chest, “ _All mine_.”


	17. pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: wedding night pillow talk

"Now you’ve done it, killer," Sebastian muses, lazily dragging a thumb over the silver band around his left ring finger, one nearly identical to his own. His husband’s lips settle near his ear, hot breath sending a shiver down his spine, "You’re stuck with me," Sebastian whispers, before biting teasingly at his earlobe.

He giggles, locked securely in Sebastian’s embrace after a passionate night of love making, but he thinks that if Sebastian had any say they might just start all over again. 

"That works both ways, you know," he says, and turns in Sebastian’s arms, reminded of how handsome he’d looked yesterday in his black-and-white tuxedo, how Sebastian had managed to keep his emotions in check while he had to wipe at a tear or two during the ceremony, how his eyes had seemed to dance every time they met his in the hours following. 

"I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t want to be stuck with you."

He pats at Sebastian’s cheek. “I’ve turned you into a sap.”

Sebastian laughs. “For now,” he says. “After the honeymoon I go back to being cocky, sarcastic, and moody.”


	18. starlight confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: starlight confession

Blaine’s eyes shine luminous in the stilted moonlight, hazel irises transfigured into stars themselves as he gazes up at the sky, billions upon trillions of stars lightyears away keeping them both company. 

Only he’s not looking up at the starlit sky, he’s staring at the boy next to him in the grass, mindful only of the constellation Blaine has ambitiously charted in the ever expanding space in his chest. 

"I’m in love with you," the words cascade from his lips like wildfire, a big bang, the start of something unimaginably  _un-chartable_. 

And Blaine smiles at him, fifteen and already an astronaut, exploring the vast outreaches of his equally teenage heart. “I’m in love with you too,” he whispers to the universe. 


	19. revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: revenge

After three years, he thought he knew all the ways Sebastian could turn him on, could drive him crazy with a well-placed word while palming his dick through his trousers, could make him come hands-free as long as he added the right stimulus at the right moment.

He’s not sure what drove him to agreeing to the blindfold and the cuffs, he doesn’t need to see Sebastian to enjoy everything he’s doing to him, but Sebastian’s making him pay for something. He’s been turned on every which way, Sebastian has tended to all his special spots and then some, licked and bit and squeezed, sucked him off until he was on the brink of orgasm before pulling away again.

For half a damn hour. 

"God, Sebastian, please, I need to–" He thrashes on the bed, pulling at the cuffs securing his wrists to the bed, overheated and so hard his body aches for release. 

He hears a smile vibrate through the air, before Sebastian plants a kiss to the base of his dick, which just about sends him crawling out of his skin. “Not yet.”

"Why?" he whines.

Sebastian slowly makes his way up his body again, lathering kisses up his chest, gradually grinding his hard-on against his. “Payback,” he says.

And there’s really only one thing Sebastian’s allowed to beg retribution for.

"For making me hard at your parents’ Christmas party last week."


	20. first pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Seblaine want to get their first pet. Problem is Blaine wants a dog and Sebastian wants a cat.

"We’re not getting a dog!" he calls, door slamming shut behind him while Blaine’s already in the living room, shrugging off his jacket with more verve than required.

"And a cat would be so much better?" Blaine asks, hands at his hips, which never bodes well for him.

"Dogs are too high maintenance," he argues, mistakenly adding, "Kinda like you", before he realizes that doesn’t sound cute at all right now.

Blaine’s eyes narrow on his face. “Excuse me?”

Now he’s done it. Taking a quick step forward he places his hands around Blaine’s waist and starts over. “We both have jobs that keep us busy, who would walk the dog?”

Blaine opens his mouth, but closes it again, considering his question. 

"I suppose a cat wouldn’t be the end of the world."


	21. public sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Imagine your OTP having sex in a public bathroom. As Person A starts to reach the climax, they hear someone walk in and person B covers Person A’s mouth to keep them from getting caught as the stranger uses the restroom.

“ _Baby_ ,” Blaine moans, voice ricocheting off the tacky black tiles plastering the walls encasing them in the tiny bathroom stall; a shiver ravages through his body and his hips buck forward but he’s pinned too tight against the wall to move.

Any further endearments turn into a soliloquy of gibberish, whimpers and broken sounds cut short, Blaine’s arms clutching around him as their dicks rub together, inching ever closer to his orgasm.

He’d set a painstakingly slow pace, in sync with the bass wafting in from the club, steadily working himself up into a rhythm, until their bodies were a writhing mess, a dialogue back and forth, sweat soaking through the thin layers of their shirts now wet and slick between them. 

He grinds into Blaine. “That’s it, B,” he whispers as a dull ache sets in at the small of his back. “That’s it.”

Blaine’s fingers wire into his hair, pulling hard, when someone else stumbles into the bathroom, making a loud spectacle of it too. His heart-rate spikes dangerously high, but Blaine’s too far gone to notice they’ve gotten company, so he doesn’t stop, his hips lose coherence and his thighs burn, and just as Blaine comes he slides a hand over his mouth, barely stifling the sounds that escape him. 


	22. morning fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: something fluffy and cute

Blaine’s in the kitchen when he wakes up to an armful of pillow not his own, his stomach rumbling at the scent of pancakes, coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice wafting through the door Blaine probably left open on purpose.

He stumbles out of bed and throws on some sweats, soon finding his boyfriend making a gigantic stack of blueberry pancakes, dressed only in a T-shirt and boxers. McConaughey, the small rut Blaine deemed fit to adopt from Sam, runs over, his paws sounding little pops throughout the apartment.

"Morning, sleepy," Blaine spins around, all morning sun and peppy, which he can’t help but find infectious.

He walks over, far less energetic without his dose of caffeine, but steals a kiss to tie him over. Blaine eagerly reciprocates, his lips parting, fingers tracing featherlight down his chest. Hoisting Blaine onto the counter his legs wrap around him.

McConaughey jumps up against the back of his legs, barking for attention, but for the moment he’s too preoccupied with his boyfriend, so wonderfully winding around his body.

"What’s all this for?" he asks, allowing for scarce distance between their lips. 

"Because I’m happy." Blaine pushes a kiss to his lips. "And I’m in love."

He smiles and shakes his head, enamored by this ridiculous hunk of boy who’s mystifyingly become his. He kisses Blaine again, leaving no more room for small talk or love confessions, until Blaine snorts and starts giggling.

"Not the effect I was going for," he says.

"McConaughey’s licking at my toes," Blaine whispers.

He pulls back and throws an accusatory glance down at the dog,  _the little cockblocker_. “That better not be one of Evans’ tricks.”


	23. moving in together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for **Yiota**. inspired by [THIS](http://mcfanderson.tumblr.com/post/96407640191) art by [mcfanderson](www.mcfanderson.tumblr.com).

The moving truck roared down the street exactly fifteen seconds after Sebastian pressed the few money notes into the driver’s eagerly waiting hands – Blaine guessed he had other deliveries to make, other young couples to move perhaps, else he might’ve actually waved them off properly and wished them good luck. Though the few years he has lived in the city taught him not everyone in New York City has learned the instant magic of a kind word. Ironically, that included his boyfriend.

It’s cold out for the time of year, early fall; after the scalding hot summer they went through he didn’t think the temperature could drop so drastically, but it has, inviting long-sleeved shirts and sweaters back into his everyday wardrobe. After all the schlepping back and forth up and down the stairs though, he chucked his sweater aside and got by in his t-shirt.

He turns around, ready to start work on phase two of today’s work, which was to get everything in the apartment, when he notices Sebastian lounging back on the steps to the entryway of the building they’re moving into. All the furniture made it upstairs already, courtesy of the movers they paid for, but a big carton box labeled ‘KITCHEN’ still blocked the sidewalk, another few boxes already in front of the front door, but this won’t do. They can’t well leave the box marked ‘SEX TOYS’ out for everyone to see.

He’d written out a precise and detailed schedule for today, tomorrow, and even the next few days, should Sebastian get that time off his boss promised. A fist on either side of his hips, his so-called Nightbird stance, he points at his boyfriend. “You still have work to do, mister.”

Sebastian finds his eyes slowly, patiently, and all the response he gets is a smile, that smile that makes his knees gooey and something in his stomach heat up. “Babe,” Sebastian says. “ _Relax_. We’re plenty ahead of schedule. Take a second to enjoy this.”

He purses his lips, knowing he’d enjoy this a whole lot more if they got this done now and reap the fruits of their labor later. But Sebastian’s wearing that big-ass Dalton Academy hoodie he’s still convinced he bought a size too big on purpose, and he looks so comfortable and cuddly, that he feels drawn to the guarantee of a hug and a kiss and maybe putting one of those boxes to better use later.

He walks over and sits a step higher than Sebastian, his legs swung over one of Sebastian’s.

And then it hits him.

They’re _moving in together_. They’re going to build a home here, as boyfriends, in New York City. Soon they’ll bicker over which side the couch should face or where it gets the most sun, Sebastian will scoff when he mentions they should get a plant, or a cactus, or at least something to liven the place up, they could get puppies that can dart up and down the very stairs they’re currently occupying. There’s so much coming for them.

Sebastian was absolutely right to force him to enjoy this.

He shakes his head as Sebastian’s hand sneaks around his waist. Looking down into two beautiful green eyes he’s not only filled with hope for the future, he tingles head to toe with the promise of right now – he’s going to live with the boy he loves, in the city of his dreams and there’s nothing he could possibly want more.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I can,” Sebastian says softly, that promise sinking deep into his pores, underneath his skin and into his bones and well beyond.

He kisses Sebastian and Sebastian kisses back readily, tongue teasing at his lips until there’s nothing but the here and now.

There’s only the promise of a life together.

 

 

 

**\- FIN -**

 


	24. make-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: make-up (stage make up? halloween make up? everyday make up? blaine-tone-down-the-blush make up? any of these or anything else is good!)

"Bas, don’t–" he protests before Sebastian pushes closer, "Hmpf," his lips soon claimed by two others painted a flashy red. A heedless warmth races down his spine, and his lips part haphazard against Sebastian’s – he tastes like coffee and Courvoisier and Silly Farm face paint, and any initial objection pops out of existence in the lack of space between them.

Sebastian’s tongue outlines his mouth, then licks inside, their noses brushing together, the birthday party outside a distant world of toddlers crying out for the party clowns. 

"What was that, killer?" Sebastian whispers, breath leaving condensed stains, their spongey red noses cupped side by side on the floor. Red lips have turned pink where their mouths met, skin showing through the white around Sebastian’s lips.

"Nothing." 

His fingers scamper around Sebastian’s hips and he pulls them against his own, thoughts rife with smudged make-up and a dark need to smear it all over his body. Sebastian’s hips rut against his, pink kisses down his spine, his world turning red as he closes his eyes. 


	25. grocery shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Seb and Blaine buying groceries.

"This has to be whole grain," Blaine says once he returns to the cart with a few bags of fresh vegetables, and inspects the label on the loaf of bread he picked out. "It’s healthier."

"It’s  _bread_ ,” he sighs, “I really don’t think it matters that much.”

"You’re the one who wanted to cut back on take-out and fastfood."

Blaine shrugs, a seemingly dismissive gesture his boyfriend very well knows gets under his skin to the point where he’s sure to take back the bread he selected and replace it with the proper healthy substitute. Because this healthier living streak had indeed been his idea – ever since they moved in together they often relegated themselves to take the easy way out, they ordered in and spent the night cuddling on the couch, inevitably making their way into the bedroom to work off the excess calories. Despite the renewed honeymoon phase of their relationship, the unsaturated fatty acids were adversely affecting their moods. 

Living together had also come with an unpredictable amount of obstacles. He never trusted Blaine to do the grocery shopping, that always lead to arguments about how they did not need a non-stick grill pan when they’d never even used the kitchen; and Blaine got angry at him whenever he (not so) accidentally forgot to buy his hair gel, necessitating another trip to the store.  

So now they shopped together, no exceptions.

"Fine," he concedes, and makes his way back to the previous aisle to replace the bread, Blaine following behind. He grabs whole grain bread and tosses it into the cart. "Happy?"

A smile curls around Blaine’s lips and he makes his way over, pushing a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I’m the happiest man in the world.”


	26. meet at a wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Sebastian and Blaine meeting at a wedding.

"Bride or groom?" a voice calls behind him, husky with the cadence of summer and a few glasses of champagne, maybe even one too many. The voice belongs to Sebastian Smythe, a friend of Rachel’s from one of her previous plays, a great dancer, a wonderful singer, and extremely good-looking. He’d always hoped for the opportunity to meet him.

"The bride’s ex roommate." 

"My condolences."

He laughs, lounged back against the balcony’s balustrade, eyes wading unkempt up and down Sebastian’s body.

"I’m not much for weddings." Sebastian drawls a few steps closer until he’s well within his reach, one hand in a pants pocket while the other’s curled around another glass of champagne. "But Rachel Berry getting hitched? That I had to see."

"It helps that you wear a suit so well."

Sebastian smiles, open and stunning, and somehow it settles around his heart like a bright half moon. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't know how to fill out a suit."

He smiles involuntarily, charmed by the tall man who wears his tailor-made tux as if it's a second skin, and holds out a hand. "Let's go dance."

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	27. dissing favorite superhero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt by **[andercriss](www.andercriss.tumblr.com)** : waiting behind you in line but ‘excuse you me did i just hear you talking shit about my favourite superhero there SON

The line at the DMV seems never-ending, no matter how many people give up and take their leave. In between waiting and his assigned reading he preoccupies himself watching the people in line; the short round man now third in line has turned red in the face, waving his traffic tickets like a fan, while the boy in front of him shifts from one leg to the other, impatience animating his body. 

Pulled from his book he’s taken with the boy’s pace and the length of his legs, the gentle line of his back all the way up to his shoulders, his shirt straining around a long lean form. The boy’s cellphone rings, and his eyes draw back to the page he earmarked, but he fails to tune out the conversation.

"No, I’m still at the DMV," the boy sighs and checks his watch. "I can probably make it by seven. I guess you’ll have to pick out the movie."

A blush creeps into his cheeks, listening in on the boy talking to who he assumed is his date for tonight, and the odd sense of jealousy over someone he knows nothing about, but the entertainment of the fantasy had proved a welcome distraction.

"No, mom."

He smiles to himself, the fantasy intact after all, while he feels more and more enamored by the mysterious boy, even if he probably won’t see him after today. 

"Not Superman,  _Man of Steel_  was beyond lame.”

His face falls, the fantasy now dutifully shattered by a few choice words – his heart’s a dull stutter and he involuntarily mutters under his breath, “Superman isn’t lame”, more than a little annoyed at the stranger’s blatant disregard for one of the most iconic superheroes in existence. 

"Excuse me?" the boy turns in a single breath, his phone disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“ _Superman is not lame_ ,” he repeats, not in the least dissuaded when the boy takes a step closer into his personal space. "Zach Snyder might not have done Superman much justice, compared to _Man of Steel_  even  _Superman Returns_  is better, but Superman is still the best superhero.”

An amused smile pulls at the boy’s mouth, a momentary surprise which proves more than a little pleasing – it’s a great smile. “I agree,” the boy says, and the heat previously sunk in his cheeks burns even hotter. On second glance the boy’s even more good-looking than his fantasies had hoped, with that easy-going smile bleeding through in his every movement and his words. 

"What’s your name?" the boy asks, green eyes soft and slightly pleading, curiosity burning inside. 

"Blaine."

"It’s nice to meet you, Blaine." The boy smiles. "I’m Sebastian." 


	28. post work-out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian ogling Blaine post work-out (prompted by **sophisticatedloserchick** )

"Killer?" his lips spew before he can contain himself, but he’s none too sure that the boy in front of him in the locker room is the Blaine Anderson of legend.

Because  _damn_.

A perfect ass fills out bright green shorts, and he’d grant his eyes the credence if not for the uncharacteristic mop of free curls sitting on top of the boy’s head, loose and sweaty, uncombed, begging to be strangled in between strong fingers. 

The mess of curls whips around to face him. “Sebastian,” none other than Blaine Anderson breathes, that signature reaction of a smile following. He loves that smile, revels in how gratuitously Blaine grants it even to the people who once wronged him. “Hi! I didn’t know you worked out here.”

"I– Yeah,” he stutters, eyes pointedly traveling down Blaine’s throat, adam’s apple bobbing up and down while a drop of sweat trickles down and catches in the fabric of the black tank top he wears.

 _Damn_. 

"Are you okay?"

"Does your hair always look like this when it’s wet?" the words once again skip past his lips without his direct permission, but he’s too thrown off by this alternate version of Blaine to really care.

Blaine’s hands shoot up to his hair and cringes. “I know, it’s a mess.”

"No, it’s not, it’s–”

 _Flawless_ , he thinks, it’s flawless.


	29. getting married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: _in honor of neil and david getting married what about seblaine getting married later in life and after they've been together a long time and maybe had kids._

"Old age is making you sentimental, sweetheart," Sebastian teases while the photographer fiddles with the settings of his camera – Sebastian pushes his lips against his temple and an arm tightens around his waist, their left hands wound together with their matching silver wedding bands.

He laughs softly, “Have you ever known me to be any different?” recalling the tear tracing down his cheek once he’d spoken the words, “and I will honor, love, and cherish you, for the rest of my life”, their six-year old daughter screaming, “Daddy, not yet!” when Sebastian leaned in and kissed the tear away before it could reach his mouth.

After twelve years, twelve crazy hectic loving yet equally difficult years, two kids, a boy and a girl, a mortgage on a beautiful house, and their fair share of obstacles, they’ve finally tied the knot.

And he’s sure that if ever there was a time to get sentimental it would be when he marries the love of his life, his partner, father of his children.


	30. not used to being loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "I'm not used to being loved. I wouldn't know what to do."

"I’m not used to being loved," he muses, drawing his fingers over Blaine’s shoulder, tiptoeing down to the small of his back, leaving behind stanzas and entire verses with a steady rhyme with the mere caress of his fingertips. 

Once upon a time he would’ve whispered it in the dead of night, confessed his greatest fears to the darkness and let it be, remain silent forevermore because that was safer. In this bed, though, he’s safer than he’s ever been.

Blaine leans up on his elbows. “Why?”

A short laugh escapes him, and he pushes a kiss to Blaine’s shoulder, bumping his nose against delicate skin a few times. "I wouldn’t know what to do."

It’s almost embarrassing to admit it, like he’s some schoolboy confessing a crush rather than a grown man who’d started seriously dating a hot pediatrician a few weeks ago. But he realizes all too well that doesn’t exclude the ‘crush’ part.

"Well then." Blaine turns into his body, tangling their legs together. "I guess I have my work cut out for me."


	31. For A Little While

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has to go. For at least a little while.

“Sebastian,” he whispers, reaching a hand for a body that retreats behind lines drawn long ago, charcoal black and tarnished, unyielding defences he tore at with everything in him that loved heart and soul. “This has never been about whether or not I love you.”

He thought it a clear-cut decision once, to love or not to, but he knows now it was never a choice, never even a possibility. The moment he met Sebastian his love turned into a foregone conclusion, it was like falling precipitately into the event horizon, giving into gravity, headfirst and heedless.

“I do.” A tear slips equally heedless down a cheek still bearing the imprints of every stolen kiss, every secret touch and past rain storms. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Then why–”

The break in Sebastian’s voice leaves a hairline fracture along the chambers of his heart.

“Why are you leaving?”

His left hand clenches around the handle of his overnight suitcase, packed hastily after another futile offensive. “Because I deserve more than this.”

Sebastian faces away, no more a victor than he is.

“I want it to be you, Sebastian.” He leaves his suitcase in favor of a final attempt, the last for at least a little while, and draws a few steps closer towards a body he’s charted and explored, he’s learned all its secrets in the span of a year and carefully excavated a spot for himself in one of its cavities. If only he could dig down to its core. But he has to launch an all-out assault to make as much as a dent in Sebastian’s armor.

Not loving Sebastian never proved an option.

Not loving himself an even greater impossibility.

“I love you. And I want to be with you.” He wipes at another non-compliant tear before settling a hand over Sebastian’s heart, so close and within reach; all it would take right now is dig a fraction deeper. But he’s come to the terrifying conclusion that in order to get to Sebastian’s heart he might need to break it first. “But not like this.”

Sebastian sniffles and surges forward, a hand hooked around his neck and he caves willingly, he’s still the same heedless romantic who wants it all; the boy, the ring, the happily ever after. Their lips touch and his own lines dissipate, Sebastian’s tongue licks along his bottom lip and his mouth opens, melting into a body he wants completely, right down to the dark and gritty bits no one’s seen before.

They break apart and breathe each other in, the heat and security urging him in a different direction than the one he decided on earlier. But he has to go.

“Please, don’t go,” Sebastian begs.

He has to go because Sebastian always wins, he has to go for all the reasons he wants to say; the boy, the love in his heart and the security in his bones tying him down. He has to steel his heart against the waves of heartbreak that will follow, because the ocean he’s already endured has worn his patience down to its bare foundations, and if the salt water corrodes much more he’ll do something he’ll regret. Like leave Sebastian for good.

“Come find me.”

He pushes one last kiss to the lips he won’t taste for at least a little while. He didn’t want to do this but his hands are tied – they can’t more forward like this, and he refuses to be stuck in a relationship that exists solely on someone else’s terms.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Sebastian’s eyes find his like he’s revealed the universe. Yes, he thinks, he’s not the one leaving, not really, Sebastian’s the one who finds higher ground time and again, leaving him high and dry to fend for himself. They should be allies, and it’s time Sebastian realized that.   

“Come find me,” he repeats and turns, taking a few steps towards the door and grabbing his suitcase along the way.

He opens the door and steps outside, and right before it closes, before the lock snaps shut in place, two words slip heedlessly through the cracks of the wood.

“ _I will_.”

 

 

**\- fin -**


	32. kiss along the hips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anons on tumblr : )

His lips scale down the planes of his boyfriend’s stomach, the body beneath him writhing with more than it can take, his hand loosely wrapped around the base of his own erection – he’s been in want of this all day, a break from the routine, a break from missing Blaine.

"Baby," Blaine whispers, fingers tangled tight in his hair, knees raising off the mattress to accommodate him between his legs. "Let me take care of you."

"Shhh," he hushes as his lips venture further down, kisses short and long, Morse code-like messages into the soft dip of Blaine’s hips – he doesn’t need release as much as he needs this, just this, the quiet comfort of knowing he’s exactly where he needs to be. 


	33. nose kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon on tumblr!

He wakes up in the middle of the night to Blaine settling against his back, a leg wiggling between his and Blaine’s face pressing demandingly between his shoulder blades. 

Sleep claws at his body as hard as Blaine currently is, but he still manages a mumbled, “Can’t sleep?”

"M’cold," his boyfriend mutters, sniffles, and shivers against him.

He snorts and struggles free, making a show of turning around in the bed and rearranging the sheets accordingly over them like it’s the  _biggest possible inconvenience_  right now. But he knows this routine.

"You’re such a baby," he says, but draws Blaine into his chest, tangling their legs together until every part of his body is touching some part of Blaine’s. 

"M’not."

He laughs again and kisses Blaine’s nose, his hands rubbing up and down the shorter’s back to get him warm again. It isn’t long before they’re both dozing off, and before sleep coaxes him away completely, he feels Blaine press a kiss to his neck. 

 

 


	34. stomach kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for **everentwined** : )

Somehow they’d ended up like this: Blaine comfortable on his back on the mattress, his head on Blaine’s stomach, bobbing along on the waves of his boyfriend’s breathing. They’re gazing up at the stars, losing count, starting over again, catching their breaths around fits of laughter because how the hell had they gotten to this point in the first place. 

Of course they knew how, it was the bottle of rum he’d snuck out of his parents’ liquor cabinet and the joint Blaine mystifyingly conjured up, ( _Cooper’s_ , he suspects). 

"I like you," Blaine confesses to a clear dark sky, a hand wired intricately through his hair, and giggles, making it impossible for him to remain where he is.

"Well, I would hope so." He sneaks back up the length of Blaine’s body, one hand mischievously dipped underneath Blaine’s shirt, charting the expanse of warm skin beneath it. "I’m your boyfriend."

"Hmm," Blaine hums, his eyes speckled with starlight, his pupils blown wide. "I’m a lucky guy."

He snorts, forehead falling to Blaine’s shoulder, his heart beating with a love the stars themselves couldn’t expand. “You’re such an idiot when you’re high.” He snakes his hand up until it rests over Blaine’s heart and kisses Blaine’s stomach. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Blaine giggles again, gasping when his lips are replaced by teeth. “And you turn into the biggest sap.”

His lips curl into a smile against Blaine’s stomach; he can live with the rule reversal if it means Blaine gets to hear his love confessions. 

 

 


	35. collarbone kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon on tumblr : )

"This one’s–" Blaine bites at his lip, eyes alight with mischief as they catch in his. "–Javi."

"Javi?" Laughter roars through him as he rolls onto his back, mouth pulling around a wide smile, caught off guard when Blaine sits up swiftly and straddles him around the hips; Blaine leans in and capture his lips, hands skipping down his torso.

Blaine touches a finger to a freckle on his neck, the same one he just named, and gently traces down to another one. “This one is Arnold.”

"You’re ridiculous," he whispers into Blaine’s hair, one finger tracing whimsically down the length of Blaine’s spine, down to the small of his back, teasing the cleft of his ass.

Blaine shivers on top of him, kissing the Jack and Jill dotted along his collarbone. “Got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

 

 


	36. kiss with a fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anons on tumblr

His head smacks hard off the wall as his entire body collides with it, two strong hands shoving him back, a fist to his face that breaks the skin over his lips. 

"You look so fine bleeding, little killer." Sebastian’s breath tickles coppery along his lips as his hand closes around his throat, the touch leaving something to be desired. 

"I told you not to call me that." He shoves hard at Sebastian’s chest, catching the taller off guard because he tumbles backward, barely able to hold himself up against the table.

Sebastian’s eyes catch furiously in his, while a filthy grin pulls at lips he means to leave as bloody as his. "We about done here?"

He spits and drags the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping off as much blood as he can before he closes the distance between their bruised bodies.

"Not even close," he growls and grabs Sebastian around the neck, pulling him down until their mouths crash together – he tastes blood and cheap booze as he forces his tongue inside Sebastian’s mouth, the taller tugging at his shoulders, his shirt, his hair before he bites down at his bloodied lip.

He hisses at the pain, but yanks at Sebastian’s hair in response, biting along his jawline, down his neck, drawing blood at his collarbone. 

 

 


	37. Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine runs into someone familiar right after the break-up.

The rain clatters like the beat of a drum; rhythmless and out of tune it manages to drown his breathless sobs, caressing his lungs with long claws that dig deep and painful, his stomach settled on nausea. He can’t believe it’s over, he can’t believe just half an hour ago he was planning _his wedding_ , the most beautiful day of his life and now—

Where does he go from here? Does he just pack up his things, find his own place and— move on?

His foot catches at the pavement and he almost faceplants into the road, but he grabs onto a street sign to save him complete humiliation. He’s not sure he’d be able to get up again.

“Blaine?”

The voice spins vicious circles in his head until it perches alongside the proper memories and no, oh no, this isn’t happening. Anyone but him. He turns around slowly, vision blurred by thick drops of rain catching in his eyebrows, but even through the torrent the outlines are unmistakable, the strong jaw braced against the cold, thin lips, and smile that pulls at a single corner of his mouth.

“It’s the funniest thing,” Sebastian says, as if nothing bad ever happened between them, as if years didn’t span the distance from Sebastian’s body to his and it hasn’t been an eternity since they last talked. “I was walking, checking out this guy when suddenly I was like ‘wait a second, I know that hair.’”

The chuckle that escapes is a sad one, but he’s amused nonetheless, the memory scattered in between so many others of late-night phone calls, text messages that never really said anything at all, but always underscored one thing. This tall doofus of a boy actually cared.

“You should have left that line in high school.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows knit together. “You remember that?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, while his heart trips a step or two out of line. This has undeniably been the worst night of his life, and he doesn’t foresee it getting much better than this— so how’s Sebastian the one to find him? He almost drowned in this city once trying to keep up with Kurt, yet here he is, Sebastian Smythe, a source of heat he’s drawn to time and again, and somehow, inexplicably, Sebastian’s still there, keeping up effortlessly. He doesn’t deserve that.

“Are you crying?”

“What?” His eyes snap up at concerned green ones, though they’re obscured by the darkness of the night. “No. It’s the rain.”

“I hate to be the one to break this to you, killer,” Sebastian says, and points up, to where his umbrella has kept them both safe from the rain for quite some time now. He has no excuses left, no straws to reach out for now that he’s been torn down to endure this raw hurt scraping along fissures in his heart. Last time he saw Sebastian like this he said all the right things, made him feel like he belonged, made him feel worth a damn. And why? Why does he bother when he chose Kurt over and over and—

“Come on,” Sebastian interrupts his rampant train of thought. “Let me buy you some coffee.”

He glances up at his tall doofus, the boy who has the strangest ways of showing his care. Inappropriate flirting, senseless text messages, Warbler dance combos. Inendurable compliments.

“Just like old times?”

He sniffles, fights back tears threatening to encapsulate his entire existence. “With a shot of Courvoisier?”

Sebastian grins. “Didn’t leave that in high school either.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	38. worried Blaine (flash seb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first sentence prompted by **anisstaranise**.

"Don't tell me not to worry, because I do!" he yells, feeling all the patience drain out of him at the sight of his bloodied boyfriend - fresh from another (successful) case of vigilantism.

"Babe, relax." Sebastian slides back his mask, which only makes his worry grow; he has a split upper and bottom lip, and the skin over one of his eyes is broken as well. Anger sets thick beneath his worry, slowly seeping out of his pores. This has been going on for months and he’s remained silent for too long already. 

"Don’t tell me to relax." He grits his teeth. "You promised me you’d tell me when you went out. Instead I come home and you’re not here, and I can’t reach you. I had to hear about your heroics on the news!"

Sebastian huffs, disbelief riddled all across his face. “Blaine, you were in class. I didn’t want to bother you.” Sebastian takes a step in his direction, halting when he crosses his arms over his chest, hoping to keep his boyfriend at bay for a moment longer. He’s angry, and he gets to be, and he’ll be damned if he just forgives Sebastian for breaking his promises every time he returns home safe. “Why are you giving me a hard time?”

He doesn’t meet Sebastian’s eye. “What happened to your face?”

"A few gang-bangers got in a few lucky hits." Sebastian shrugs. " _Don’t worry_ , it’ll heal.”

"And what happens if you ever get really hurt?" His eyes shoot up. "So hurt you don’t heal? Or you lose consciousness? What then, huh?" Despair cuts through him like a razor blade, leaving him to bleed anger and insecurity all at once and he can’t for the life of him figure out how Sebastian hasn’t realized how much his worry reflects his love for him. "I’ll just sit here and worry, wondering where the hell you are? I can’t live like that."

"Blaine–” Caution sinks into Sebastian’s eyes. “What are you saying?”

“ _Keep_  the promises you make,” he says. He’s not asking, he’s not begging, he’s telling Sebastian this is the way it has to be. Worrying about Sebastian is exhausting and scary and sometimes it’s more than he think he can take. In the grander scheme of things, he’s not asking for much; he wants to be kept in the loop. Anyone else might’ve already asked Sebastian to give up his crime-fighting ways.

"I’m sorry," Sebastian says, shuffling a little, the honesty in his voice enough to bring him to his knees. "I didn’t know it was that important to you."

He shifts from one leg to the other, uncertain. “I could’ve, possibly, communicated it better than I did.”

A soft smile colors Sebastian’s lips. “So I’m forgiven?”

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between their bodies by folding his arms around Sebastian’s waist. “You’re forgiven.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	39. writer Sebastian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first line prompted by **anisstaranise**.

Blaine knew that as a writer, Sebastian would often write about his personal experiences, albeit with a fictitious twist, but to find their most intimate- and steamy- moments in the pages of Sebastian's new book was a little bit... overwhelming.

Sebastian doesn’t write about himself or their relationship, his characters are fictional figments of his imagination – the sexual encounters between his characters, however, are very much taken from the pages of the life they’ve built together over the years. He supposes he can’t blame Sebastian, their sex life has led them to interesting places over the years, but he never realizes just how interesting until he attends his husband’s book signings.

He glances carefully around the room, at the dozens of females waiting in line to get their copies signed, and bites at his lip, nerves frayed. How many of them undress Sebastian mentally when he smiles up at them, winks cheekily, adds ‘love, Sebastian’ as an inscription to their books? How many mischievously glance over at him and picture him and Sebastian in bed together?

Because it’s a game they started playing after Sebastian published his first book – he applied the ‘ctrl+f’ function to all those steamy moments and replaced the characters’ names with theirs and, well, reading about them in bed has become one of the biggest turn-ons for him before they start writing new material all over the sheets, or the couch, or the kitchen floor.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	40. you're late (flash seb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first line prompted by **sophisticatedloserchick**.

"You better have a good reason for being late," Blaine said the minute Sebastian walked into the room.

Green eyes found his almost immediately, one of Sebastian’s hands tugging at the black silk tie he picked out the month previous. The tie was in tatters, soot stains on Sebastian’s face, his fingers black, and his shoes were… smoking?

"What–" he staggered a helpless step forward, Sebastian’s beautiful suit all but ruined, "–the hell happened to you? You said no crime-fighting today!"

His chest quivered with anger, his matching suit and tie pristine; he hadn’t eaten, he hadn’t drank anything for fear of messing up the fabric, and now his boyfriend,  _his fiancé_  stumbled in looking like he stopped a fire. Knowing Sebastian, he probably did.

"Baby, I know." Sebastian closed the distance between them, the tie coming off and dropping to the floor, his gorgeous 100$ dress shoes worn down and singed. "There was a spill at a chemical plant and there were people pinned down. I had to help."

Sebastian passed him and zipped out of his clothes, zipped in and out of the bathroom while oxygen slowly but surely seeped out of his lungs, an imminent panic attack doubling him in half, hands on his knees, gulping for air.

"We’re– getting– married–" he choked out, air flow cut off.

"Blaine?" he heard Sebastian call, his head hazy, vision blurring. "Blaine!"

A hand pressed at the small of his back, forced him upright again while he gasped. “Blaine, baby, look at me.”

Green eyes found his again, the face he brought into focus  _clean?_   _shaven?_   _free of soot?_ His lungs expanded again as he took in his husband’s-to-be new suit, as pristine as his, and he looked exactly as gorgeous as he imagined he would. Thank God Sebastian was fast. 

"We’re getting married." His teeth gritted together, his nerves shot, not only because he had to tell every single one of his family members and friends that his boyfriend was late to  _his own wedding_. But he was coming, of course he was coming, they’d been planning this for nine months, nine long tiring terrifying months. “Ten minutes ago.”

Careful lips pushed against his, and a small whimper left him, relief flooding his nervous system as they wrapped their arms around each other. “I know you can’t always be mine,” he muttered in the nape of Sebastian’s neck. “But I just wanted today.”

"Hey." Sebastian pulled back half an inch to demand his attention. "Of course I’m yours. I always have been. You have my heart and my soul, killer. Sebastian Smythe’s all yours."

"Just not The Flash."

They had this argument before, but never had its urgency stood out so much than right now, where they were about to unite their lives in front of their family and friends. Should he consider The Flash and Sebastian two completely different people? Or could he love them both?

"Sometimes– The Flash will need to be someone else’s hero too," Sebastian said, his words heavy but laden with truth. "But he’ll always come home to you. And he’s proud to become Sebastian Anderson-Smythe."

 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	41. never had a Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by **anisstaranise**.

"I’ve never had a Valentine," Sebastian confesses, swaying unbalanced against his body as they make their way up the steps to his apartment. 

"Somehow that does not surprise me."

"Laugh it up, Anderson," Sebastian slurs, paying the price for the four bourbons he had at the bar. "Laugh at my pathetically empty life, all somehow funneled into this one stupid man-made holiday."

"Alcohol turns you into a sad sack."

Their night had started off alright; he’d gotten an unexpected call from Sebastian this morning, topped off with a “Happy Valentine’s Day, killer,” and devolved into them going out for a drink together, since they were both single and found themselves in the same city again. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out Sebastian needed the company, wanted the quiet reassurance of a friend. Because Sebastian got blindsided by a break-up no three days before. What kind of dick dumps his boyfriend the week before Valentine’s?

Sebastian slumps against a wall next to a door that reads 3C. “‘s not the alcohol.”

He smiles to himself, morbidly enamored by this lovesick version of the confident boy he’d once called his friend. They’re still friends, he thinks, they never really stopped, but in between Kurt and Dave, and Sebastian’s own life they’d somehow lost touch. With both their lives a little calmer now, it somehow made sense that they found each other again.

He rifles through Sebastian’s pockets for his keys. “You’d think you’ve never gone through a break-up before.”

Sebastian sighs, and one look up into piercing green eyes tells him enough; what kind of dick makes his boyfriend go through his first ever break-up three days before Valentine’s?

"Wow." He blinks. "I’d call you lucky if I wasn’t feeling so sorry for you."

Sebastian snorts. ”So tell me, oh wise one. What do I do now?"

"Now," –he takes a deep breath, wondering what he did after all his break-ups. Felt sorry for himself, mostly, cried, curled up in bed, until the last break-up which somehow made him feel lighter. He's been living the happy single life for over a year now.– "You do something incredibly stupid that you’ll regret in the morning." 

Sebastian stares at him unblinking, and he’s about to add “I’m serious” when Sebastian decides that the stupidest thing to do right now is lean in and push his lips to his. 

And he can’t argue, he gives into the kiss with a small moan and his lips part in a sigh, Sebastian’s tongue running inside his mouth and the thrill that travels down his spine affirms things he’s known since he was a teenager. He’s always wanted to try this, know what it’s like to kiss Sebastian Smythe, the blunt force trauma of what it might mean  _to be_  with Sebastian Smythe. 

But not like this. 

"Sebastian." He pushes at Sebastian's chest, swallowing hard. "Stop."

When green eyes find his again there’s no pain or disappointment, just blown pupils and a haze washed over them. “You’re not into this?”

"I am," he hushes, the thrill vibrating through his body no longer merely a teenage one. "I really am." He laughs, notices how his fingers have wired into Sebastian’s jacket. "But I don’t want this to be something you’ll regret."

Sebastian searches his face for something he won’t be able to name until many months later, when they do make it past the door and into Sebastian’s bed, when he tells Sebastian  _Don’t stop_ ,  _Keep going_ ,  _Right there_ , and he soils the sheets with spit and come, when Sebastian’s the first to whisper, “I love you,” into his skin and the months leading up to it make sense. 

For now Sebastian agrees, “Okay,” softly, “Okay,” a kiss to his forehead and a boyish smile, before he disappears into his apartment to sleep off his buzz. 

He licks his lips and tastes Sebastian, a promise of what’s to come. 

 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	42. love and hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first line prompted by **anisstaranise**.

“Have you ever wanted to hate someone?”

He huffs a small smile, which disappears in the mess of Blaine’s curls pressed up against his cheek. “I wanted to hate you-know-who.”

“Didn’t you?” Blaine raises his head from his chest, honey eyes both guilty and wanton, like even Blaine can’t decide between letting the past rest or carrying it with him like a grudge.

“No,” he answers, one finger mapping down the exposed skin of Blaine’s shoulder. “He had what I could never have. That was envy, not hate.”

Blaine casts down his eyes, and nods a little, as if processing the information one word at a time and slotting it into places he can deal with. “Did you ever—” Blaine half-shrugs, the  _want to hate me_  spread thick around the air molecules between them. 

“I tried,” he replies in earnest, but realized a long time ago that he could never hate someone he ultimately knew he loved. “But there’s no such thing as a fine line between love and hate.”

Blaine looks up, wide-eyed, a dopey half grin peeking around a corner of his mouth. “Love?”

“Yeah, killer.” He smiles. “Love.”

 

 

**\- the end -**

 


	43. should we stop this?

Sebastian nips careful and playful bites at his neck, hips writhing where they’re slotted together delicately tight. Their clothes lie in a zigzag pattern from the front door to the bed, the one thing still separating their bodies Sebastian’s boxers, though he skews them determinedly down one of Sebastian’s hips, quite set on undoing and getting undone. But the offending piece of fabric remains trapped between Sebastian’s hips and his, where Sebastian’s started rutting them together ever so slowly. 

“Sebastian,” he whispers, knees rising from the mattress to press in tight to Sebastian’s sides, forcing a little more direction into their movements. He bites at Sebastian’s shoulder hard enough to leave an imprint, cocooned safely in the space bound by the bed and Sebastian’s lean body, hands tripping down his back. 

Until Sebastian pulls back, and promptly ducks a kiss. 

“Do you ever think we should just stop this?”

“What?” He blinks, swiftly undone in ways he scarcely imagined;  _this_  makes it sound so wrong, makes it seem like he’s simply allowing Sebastian to put him back together before the next lucky contender for his heart comes along. But he gets it; the first time Sebastian kissed him, or he kissed Sebastian, the sequence of events is unclear, he decided he wouldn’t be the one to strip down to his bare bones first — he’d done that in the past, over and over again, and it’d left him broken too many times. 

“Not  _this_ , obviously,” —Sebastian’s eyes skip down his torso, and he licks his lips, insecure in ways he didn’t deem possible— “But—next time I could buy you dinner first?”

He blinks again, stripped bare of any replies that might insulate him from getting his heart broken by none other than Sebastian Smythe —  _this_  has become something real, more than a quick fix to prolonged exposure but a time delayed remedy,  _this_  is simply one small part of what they truly are. 

“Are you— asking me out?” he asks, uncertainly tapping his fingertips at the small of Sebastian’s back, acutely aware of how vulnerable a position they’re both in. 

“I guess I am.”

“You’re impossible.” He laughs in spite of himself. “But I’d love to go out with you.”

If he doesn’t say it now he never will, and he does want this something deeper to start showing in his life,  _their lives_ , together. 

“Yeah?” Sebastian beams down at him. 

He nods, and wriggles his hips. “Now take off your pants.”

 

 

**\- the end -**

 


	44. can i kiss you?

“Can I kiss you?” Sebastian utters with exact precision, as if they hadn’t stumbled through his front door with two pair of left feet, as if the air hadn’t saturated with whiffs of alcohol in the taxi ride over here.

“No, you can’t.” He cards hesitant fingers through auburn locks, his heart willing an altogether different answer, but he doesn’t want it to be like this, refuses to let the first kiss they share to seep into short-term memory swindled by a few drinks too many. 

“When I’m sober though,” Sebastian hums, curling into his new burberry sheets like an indolent child that won’t go to sleep, and reaches an innocent but tactful caress down his cheek. He chases after the heat of Sebastian’s palm and ends up pressing his lips to Sebastian’s skin, the aching need to feel that hand everywhere else howling in his veins.

Sebastian slowly dozes off, his hand slipping away, all his guards coming down at once a privilege to see. 

“When you’re sober,” he whispers.

He leans in and brushes his lips against Sebastian’s forehead, planting a soft kiss there, something to tie them over in the mean time.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	45. come home with me

“Come home with me.” Sebastian pushes in closer, claims a space he relinquished wordlessly since the first time they fell into bed together, months ago, and every moment since has been one long acid spiral, one decidedly bad for him. 

“I can’t,” he chokes out, fingers curling around the lapels of Sebastian’s jacket, the warm lips to his forehead enough of a reason for him to ignore his innermost voice, to fall into bed again, to let Sebastian take him, have him in ways that erase the pain of the past year. “You know I can’t.”

“Because of what I said?” Sebastian scoffs, though there’s no real bite to his voice; it lost that somewhere in between the first time he pushed inside Sebastian, making the taller whimper, and this moment right here, both of them begging something unnatural to them. 

He doesn’t want to be just another boy. 

Sebastian doesn’t know how to become his. 

“Forget what I said, just— forget everything.” —green eyes rampant with desire find his, warm hands on his face and a body he knows so intimately well forcing him back against the wall. Sebastian searches his face, down his neckline, his body, all for answers he lost— “Just come home with me.”

Deep down they both know what they could be, what they could become, and while he means to settle inside Sebastian’s heart like a seed waiting to grow all Sebastian does is pull back, pull away, takes what comes natural to him. 

Sebastian has mapped out the vast breadths of his body, circled around the poles and back again.

He knows Sebastian’s body in infinitely new ways. 

“And do this all over again?” He pulls Sebastian’s hands away from his face, folding them together between his own; he can’t be selfish any more than he’s already been, use Sebastian to hold himself together. And he won’t be Sebastian’s excuse not to feel, not anymore. “I want more with you, Sebastian. I just— I can’t. Not anymore.”

He slips away before Sebastian can touch him again, before a kiss might make him sway in his own convictions; bruises dent along his ventricles, but he’s stronger now, invariably so, and a lot of that has to do with Sebastian. So if Sebastian can see all the ways in which he’s broken, if Sebastian took care enough to steadily piece him back together, why couldn’t he love him whole?

“You’ll be back.”

He trips to a two-second stop, his mouth dry, his skin cold.

Yes, he’ll probably be back. 

 

 

**\- the end -**

 


	46. i'm flirting with you

“I’m flirting with you,” Sebastian says, determined and concise, his coffee forgotten on the table in between them. 

“You flirt with me on a daily basis, Sebastian,” —his eyebrows knit together as he dumps an entire bag of sugar into his coffee, stirring more than necessary— “this isn’t exactly news.”

“So you’re not— into me.”

“No—” He blinks up at his friend, his fellow Warbler, the guy who stays up late to teach him the intricacies of the French language. Did he just hear that correctly? Is Sebastian afraid-of-commitment Smythe honest to God opening up to him and talking about his feelings?  _And he said no_? “I mean— what? What do you mean?”

Sebastian’s hand folds around his coffee cup, even though it must be too hot to hold. “You’re not into me.”

He swallows, straightens his shoulders. “I am,” he admits, because he’s come to cherish the time they spend together more than his time with anyone else. He thought Sebastian knew that. 

“I’m confused.” Sebastian scoots forward to the tip of his chair. “You’re into me, but you don’t like it when I flirt with you?”

“Sebastian,” —he leans closer— “you flirt with the barista if it means a free shot of Courvoisier.”

“A guy needs his caffeine fix, Blaine.” Sebastian smirks, that same old Smythe charm replacing whatever vulnerability Sebastian allowed to show. He’s always known it’s there, Sebastian can’t disguise everything 24/7, and he’s gotten to know the other boy much better than that. “I swear I flirt with you for much more nefarious purposes.”

“ _Nefarious_ , you say.” He barely stifles a giggle. “Tell me more.”

“Will you just—” Sebastian sighs, though an amused smile threatens to shatter through his tough guy act, “—date me?”

He laughs, unable to hold back, his shoulders shaking in delight. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Forget it.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re not worth the effort.”

“Excuse me.” He tries to act insulted, but he can’t help but reach for Sebastian’s hand across the table -- the table takes it reluctantly. “I would have you know I’m a catch. Captain of the Warblers, head of the debate team? You could do worse.”

“Is that a yes?”

“That is a very complicated yes, yes.” He nods, and winks. “Wouldn’t be worth it if I didn’t make you work for it.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	47. stop and feel the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?

“Sebastian, wait,” Blaine calls, followed by a not too gentle tug on his sleeve. It’s coming down hard outside, the rain big wet splotches that splash up as they hit the ground, the thunder and lightning seconds apart.

“Blaine, it’s–” He speaks and turns in the same breath, which escapes him the moment he takes in his boyfriend, face tilted upward so the rain catches his skin, his tongue out, chest heaving with laughter. 

“It’s  _raining_!” Blaine exclaims.

He can’t help but laugh, dangle their locked hands back and fro between them. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

“It’s  _romantic_.”

He sniffles, water actually getting into his nose, his vision blurred where the rain has caught in his eyebrows. It’s insane to be outside right now. “It’s wet and cold,” he says, water running down his spine straight into his pants. “Not to mention dangerous. And– what about your hair?”

Blaine finds his eyes, his precious gel helmet destroyed, sad curls clinging to his forehead. “What about my hair?” Blaine asks, and bites at his lip, his hand squeezing his. 

He rolls his eyes fondly and presses their bodies together; it’s cold and chilly and nothing close to romantic–yet, somehow though, it actually is. “You’re drunk,” he states, while dreaming of warm towels and blankets, maybe a hot shower first. Now that sounds romantic. 

“I’m going to be your boyfriend forever.” Blaine smiles up at him, his eyes gleaming with every promise he’ll ever make. Their dads would call them naive, they’re only fifteen and each other’s first boyfriends, but somehow though, that’s how he feels too. He can’t imagine feeling this way about anyone. 

“Forever’s a long time, killer,” he says nonetheless. Out of the two of them, he’s generally regarded as the sceptic.

Blaine shakes out his hair as if he’s a puppy doused with water. “I don’t care.”

When their lips meet in between a dozen or so raindrops it’s wet and it’s cold, and if lightning were to strike they’d both meet their end. But, somehow though, it’s sort of romantic too. 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	48. pumpkin spice latte

The warm froth settles along Sebastian’s mouth and licks up his lip, the tip of his nose dipping inside a little, and he’s too focused on that little dot of foam clinging like a snowflake to notice Sebastian grimace—he reaches over and whips at the small cloud with his index finger, giddily licking it up.

“So?” he asks, knocking his knee excitedly against his boyfriend’s. 

“It’s–” Sebastian draws a thumb over his lip to catch the excess froth still caught there, swallowing while he nods, “Yeah. It’s good.”

But the way Sebastian avoids his eyes, scratches at the carton of the coffee cup, tells him enough. And he can’t help the smidgen of disappointment that must cross his face too. “You don’t like it.”

“No, I do, it’s just–” Sebastian sighs, his brow knitting with apologies he shouldn’t make. So he might have hyped up Starbucks’ Pumpkin Spice Lattes just a tiny bit–the first time the whipped cream and cinnamon combination exploded in his mouth he swore he could taste Christmas a few months in advance, and he’d stuck with the mellow winter drink ever since. Not a single fall or winter weekend passes that he doesn’t get his hands on a pumpkin spice. Since Sebastian had coffee running through his veins same as him, he wanted to introduce his boyfriend to the same delights—after five months his time had finally come. But he can’t very well  _make_  Sebastian like something.

He drops his head to Sebastian’s shoulder, hooks their arms together, lacing the fingers of his right hand with Sebastian’s left. “It’s too sweet, isn’t it?” He wrinkles his nose, tilting his head back so his eyes can sweep down the gentle slope of Sebastian’s nose, where moments ago a hint of pumpkin spice had lingered. 

Sebastian shrugs, sliding the cup over to him. “You know I like my coffee to reflect my personality.”

He nods. “Hot and bitter.”

Sebastian chokes out a laugh, shaking his head before those indelible green eyes find his. Their noses bump together before their lips meet in a kiss, one chasing along the remnants of cinnamon on both their lips. “I already have all the sweetness I need in my life,” Sebastian whispers.

He giggles and buries his face against Sebastian’s neck, warm and safe, and if he takes Sebastian’s comment to mean that he tastes like Christmas morning, well, who’d fight him? 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	49. bad boy!Blaine / nerd!Sebastian

“Blaine–” He whimpers as goosebumps trace up his torso, his hands making a mad dash into Blaine’s luscious black curls, trying,  _hoping_ , to guide him a little lower, a little closer to where his mouth– “Oh,” he gasps when Blaine’s mouth closes around him, teasing around his tip, small nips that make his gut twist with want. 

Before meeting Blaine he had no idea he was capable of this kind of desire, would ever want to be with anyone in such an utterly exposed way—he liked his oversized cardigans and sweaters, the careful part in his hair Blaine insists on mussing up whenever they spend time together, the thick clunky glasses Blaine never allows him to take off—Blaine confuses him in the best of ways, challenges him to step out of his shell, pursue his passions. 

“Blaine.” He tugs at Blaine’s curls, eager for release, but they snuck out during lunch, and while Blaine skips class regularly they’ve both agreed not to mess with his perfect attendance record. Though if Blaine were to ask, he probably would. “Should we–?”

“Yeah?” Blaine climbs up the length of his body, eyes dark pools that scale every inch of his face like he’s hoping to uncover mysteries. “Should we what?” A smug smile drawls across Blaine’s features, the half moon lip piercing tugged back into place with a slip of his tongue. “You want me to stop, cutie?”

“N-no.” He blushes deep, more than a little grateful when Blaine starts a slow-grind with his hips, adding friction he’s desperate for. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You’re always so fucking polite.” Blaine sits back and kicks off his pants, peels off his shirt, the start of the tattoo sleeve not yet colored in an intricate winding up his shoulder, based on a sketch Blaine put together over the summer. Lips sure to leave hickeys trail up his chest, stifling the oxygen in his throat. 

“I love that about you,” Blaine whispers, licks a filthy wet line over his lips while the hidden love confession tattoos itself over his heart—Blaine has been open about his feelings from the start, he  _wanted_  him, but they both know that want has blossomed into something a lot more lasting; even though Blaine rarely eats lunch he never strays far from his side, reads his deeply existential novels while he studies in the library or at home, and in turn he gets his assigned reading done while Blaine smokes a cigarette outside or fixes up his bike. It’s something quite unexpected, but somehow they’ve made it work. 

“You know what to do, right?” Blaine’s breathing deepens, laying down on his side next to him, curling a leg around his waist—he remembers it quite vividly, the lube warming on his skin, Blaine’s eyes heavily lidded as he whispered, the quiet groans and whimpers interspersed with his careful instruction. “Just like I showed you last time.”

Fingers slicked with lube he reaches around between Blaine’s legs and slowly, patiently opens him up, one finger at a time. Blaine’s lips claim his, one of his hands stroking over his hard-on every few seconds, nothing to make him climax, but enough to keep him going. 

Blaine isn’t his first, nor does he delude himself in thinking he’s Blaine’s first, but sex had never felt like this before, this exciting, this wet and sticky, this risky—they use protection, but it’s the risk of tiptoeing along the line of something casual or more, hook-ups or an elaborate gameplay meant to resemble the beginnings of a relationship. Lovers. Or boyfriends. 

It isn’t long before Blaine urges him on his back again, straddling his hips, leaning forward to steal another kiss. “Gonna take such good care of you, darlin’,” he drawls, grabbing back to guide them together, hips lowering until the tip of his cock meets his ass, and their bodies start the whole slow dance of adjusting to this raging feeling—pull back, dive in, open up, close off—despite what people say Blaine is soft and warm, he takes care of them both, and he’s long since realized the whole ‘bad boy’ thing is only a cliché because other people have made it so; it doesn’t define Blaine in every way possible. 

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asks, dragging fingers through the soft hair on Blaine’s chest, bodies cooling under a light sheen of sweat, their time running out—technically he could skip homeroom and spend another hour or so in Blaine’s arms, but he’d rather not risk it. 

Blaine laughs, and kisses his hair. “Bet your ass, you are.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	50. classic funny jealous Sebastian

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks, seemingly confused about the semantics of what ‘ _what was that?_ ’ could possibly mean. 

“You. Were. Flirting,” he answers, crowding into his boyfriend’s personal space until they’re secluded from the busiest part of the mall, Blaine’s back pressed against a door that reads ‘for authorized personnel only.’ It’s not even so much that Blaine was flirting or the reason why, it’s that he flirted with a very attractive young man _right in front of him_. He trusts Blaine with about all the trust his heart can muster, and that turned out to be a surprisingly generous amount, but he doesn’t need to see it while he was literally holding Blaine’s hand. 

Blaine hiccups one of those laughs that drive him crazy, that makes him want to kiss him right there and make them both lose their bearings–the kind he falls in love with time and time again. “I was trying to get you a free–” but just then he swoops in, pushes their lips together and they kiss like nothing matters, like the world falls away around them and it’s the two of them, burning at the center of the universe. Blaine Anderson’s made him into a sap and it’s quite remarkable how he doesn’t give a shit at all.

Once they part Blaine releases a short breath, a sure sign of his defeat, and pouts a little. “Okay,” he breathes, his lips swollen and begging to be kissed all over again. “I’ll stop flirting with the froyo guy.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	51. reconciling

He finds Sebastian outside on the lawn, far from the music’s reach and the Warblers’ cheers, the rim of a red solo cup between his fingertips. The party should be a happy occasion, they’re going to Nationals for the first time in Dalton history, yet he and Sebastian have been aimlessly trying to avoid each other over something small. They’re seventeen years old; they’ve only been dating for six months. He shouldn’t have made it into such a big deal. 

They should be celebrating along with the others, especially as the Glee club’s co-captains. “I don’t want to fight with you.” He winds his arms around Sebastian from behind, burying his face between Sebastian’s shoulder blades, his boyfriend relaxing back against him instantly. He breathes in deeply. “I hate this.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says, his left hand coming to rest over one of his. 

He releases Sebastian, waiting patiently for Sebastian to turn. “No, it’s not your fault.” He takes one of Sebastian’s hand, stretching out his fingers against his own. “I shouldn’t have pushed–”

Sebastian takes a deep breath and pulls him closer, folding his arms around his waist as he presses their bodies together. “My parents will love you, Blaine Anderson,” he says, bringing up the one thing he hoped not to mention again. He would love to meet Sebastian’s parents, see how they are, find out where Sebastian’s wit comes from– “I’m just not ready to share you with them yet.”

“Why?”

Sebastian shrugs. “My parents have this way of–”

“–pointing out your flaws? Making you feel like a kid?” he guesses, reminded of his father’s comments at family dinners, of the way his mom will lick her thumb and draw it over his face when he gets it dirty. Come to think, parents are embarrassing–why would he ask to meet Sebastian’s parents when he’d be horrified to think about Sebastian meeting his?  

Sebastian nods. “Let’s keep this cool and suave illusion I have going for a little while longer.”

“Okay.” He smiles, reaching his arms around Sebastian’s neck–he stands up on his toes and brings their lips together, pushing together in a short kiss. 

They have time to figure this out, plenty of embarrassing things yet to experience together.

“Yeah?” Sebastian mutters against his lips and they share a burst of laughter, another kiss, and a hug. “Let’s go dance.”

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	52. post break up

“I don’t know why we made this so awkward.” Sebastian laughs, drawing his fingertips down his spine to the small of his back, where a pool of sweat cools on his skin. They’ve all but melted into the mattress, hot and sated, but most importantly–together again. 

He kisses Sebastian’s shoulder, stretching languid along the length of his body, hiking a leg higher up around his waist. “Yeah, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

But if Sebastian catches the humor in his tone he chooses to ignore it, staring instead at the ceiling as if he hadn’t said a thing at all. Tonight was meant to be a quiet night in, dinner and a conversation they promised they’d have, yet had somehow escalated into sharing a bed again–not so much to avoid their problems, but a need for each other. The break-up didn’t suit them, and maybe deep down they both knew it wouldn’t, but they’d been too stubborn to admit it. He’d missed this, all of this, even Sebastian’s silent pondering. 

“I know this doesn’t mean everything’s–” 

“Hey.” He rises on his elbows, catching green eyes he hasn’t seen in too long–tonight was a good night, they’re working things out, he won’t let Sebastian ruin it now. “We decided to make a fresh start,” he says. “No regrets, remember?”

Sebastian kisses his forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

Before Sebastian pulls back he raises himself higher, capturing Sebastian’s lips like earlier that night–they’d kissed like they’d been starving for centuries, drank each other up like they hadn’t seen the sun in all this time, and in between every kiss, somewhere in between the living room and the bedroom he’d whispered, “I don’t know why we thought breaking up was a good idea.”

“Hey,” –Sebastian had bumped their noses together– “No regrets, remember?”

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispers now.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	53. you don't get it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: You don’t get how many people want you.

"It just isn't fair, you know?" Blaine bemoans, scrolling through Kurt's Facebook on his phone—he's been at it for an hour now, and three beers later he's worse off then when he'd first stumbled crying through Sebastian's door.  
  
"How does he get to move on?" Blaine pouts, "It's been three months and he's—speed dating!"  
  
Sebastian could say something about 'time' and 'moving on', now versed in those notions in ways he hadn't been in high school, but Blaine's been on a steady downhill steep of depression-anger-bargaining these past few weeks and if he keeps the beers rolling any day now 'denial' and 'acceptance' might show up too.  
  
Sebastian has high hopes, anyway.  
  
"How does a person even do that?" Blaine slurs around beer nr°4, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark gray couch. "One minute we were planning our _wedding_ and then—it was over!"  
  
"He broke my heart and he's already seeing new people."  
  
Three months and it's been like this non-stop, ever since Blaine figured out they lived in the same big lonely city and Sebastian suggested they got coffee, like old times. Little had Sebastian known it wouldn't just be post-breakup Blaine, but post-so much more this time around.  
  
Sebastian had braved through it; Blaine trusted him and that wasn't anything he took for granted. Sebastian had let Blaine cry on his shoulder, helped him work out his rage at the boxing gym, argued the benefits of being single until he got red in the face. All because of one simple truth that had dictated Sebastian's life unaware.  
  
"You don't get how many people want you," Sebastian says without meaning to.  
  
Blaine snorts at that, a little too drunk to register the words as they're meant, the way Sebastian hopes Blaine receives them. Maybe it's a vain hope, a deceitful hope, because Blaine gets like this when he's drunk; he spaces out for a while, and even though Blaine hears him just fine, his meaning doesn't sink in.  
  
Because Sebastian wants Blaine; he wanted him when Kurt was still in the picture; he wanted Blaine throughout the tumultuous breakup Sebastian knew wouldn't even last, and he still wants Blaine now. Post-engagement. Post-depression.  
  
It's a want he had a hard time accepting, its enduring nature one he had never felt before. Was this love, he'd wondered once he'd taken simple 'lust' off the table—this want proved too persistent, too lasting through two relationships of his own. Blaine had always played somewhere at the back of his mind like a recurring theme.  
  
So when he says 'how many' he means _he does_ ; _he_ wants Blaine, the schoolboy, _he_ wants Blaine, the college dropout; _Sebastian Smythe_ wants this drunken mess on his couch.  
  
One day, who knows, maybe Blaine might stop being so blind and see that.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Blaine giggles, "I have guys lining up to be with me."  
  
Thing is, Blaine does get it. He always had, in some way. Sebastian never made his interest a secret; throughout high school, through the connection they picked up again after his breakup with Kurt, even now. Post-NYADA. Post-depression. Post-Dave.  
  
He's not unlovable. He's never been unwanted.   
  
"Kurt does," Blaine says. "I don't."  
  
"Blaine," Sebastian scoots closer, for want of something altogether unknown. He wants to be able to put Blaine together again, gather every small Blaine-shard and puzzle him whole.  
  
Then Blaine grabs his arm, all sobered up in a matter of seconds and he whispers, "Don't," in rhythm with all his fears. What if they don't get it right? What if it's the wrong time? What if they break each other's hearts all the same?  
  
Sebastian falls back into the couch and sits by Blaine's side. Silent.  
  
Blaine does get it.  
  
Blaine wants Sebastian too.

 

 

**\- the end -**

 


	54. hostage situation

Sebastian surges forward and pushes their mouths together, and for three whole entire seconds Blaine can’t seem to find his bearings–he leans into the kiss, into Sebastian’s warm inviting lips that -for a moment- chase away the minute panic stirring deep inside his bones. Sebastian’s soft, and, for those three seconds, he’s safety personified, he’s the distance between him and this terribly frightening situation they find themselves in.

Until–one of the other employees whimpers, and a “Shut up!” echoes through the small branch.

Blaine pulls back, eyes wide once he fully realizes that a total stranger just kissed him in the middle of a hostage situation. “What the hell are you doing?” he hisses, and tucks another few inches back, lest the robbers might notice them talking. 

None of this was meant to happen; this was a quick gig his roommate landed him in between his freshman and sophomore year–he’s been here for exactly two weeks, and they get robbed? Right when a cute customer’s flirting with him and working up to asking him out? 

“Come on, killer.” Sebastian -that very customer- grins, yet clutches his hand around the makeshift tourniquet tied around his arm with a grimace. “I’m wounded, there are men with guns. We may not get another chance.”

“Oh,” he huffs, a little disconcerted, while his eyes carefully scan the room to make sure he can get away with what he’s about to do–forward or not, he can’t well let Sebastian bleed out after he got hurt pushing him out of the way of a bullet. The robbers seem preoccupied with whatever’s going on outside though, so he takes his chances. 

“You think I’m that easy?” Blaine asks, pulling at both ends of what had been nice sleeves on a perfectly good jacket no ten minutes ago, a first hint of blood coloring the fabric a deep crimson. 

“If I thought I’d get away with it I would’ve kissed you the moment I walked in the door.” Sebastian winces, and shudders, but his jaw locks under the pressure of screaming out in pain. 

Blaine frowns. Is that meant to be some kind of sideways compliment?

Sebastian grins again, head inclining towards him again. “All I’m saying is- I think I’m in love, killer.”

“You’re _exsanguinating_ ,” Blaine points out, but can’t help the small smile that creeps into a corner of his mouth. He can’t help it; after his terrible luck with dating this past year, and his current amount of earth shatteringly bad luck, it’s nice to be complimented by a boy as good-looking as Sebastian. Even if the blood loss is making him delirious. 

“You make that sound so sexy.” Sebastian’s voice dips a few octaves lower, sending a dark shiver down his spine–he’s certain there has to be some kind of How To guide regarding behavior in a hostage crisis, but Sebastian’s steadily turning that upside down. Which, truth be told, serves to make this a lot less scary. 

Then, without warning, the robbers run for the doors and out into the street, followed by a deafening screech of tires along the pavement outside. 

“Oh, thank God,” he breathes, panic unknotting his veins as a communal wave of relief travels through the small bank. People left and right of them slowly stands up, grabbing for their phones to call the police and 911, but he can’t seem to bring himself to leave Sebastian.

“What do you say, killer?” Sebastian croaks, sitting up a little straighter. “Dinner? Once I’m all patched up?”

Blaine laughs and looks to Sebastian, who’s slumped back against the counter, blood now trickling down from the tourniquet–one thing’s for certain: he isn’t leaving Sebastian’s side until he’s sure he’s going to be okay. And maybe it’s a surge of adrenaline in the wake of their safety, or maybe Sebastian had left a deeper effect on him than he initially realized, but Blaine surges forward too, this time, and pushes his lips to Sebastian’s. 

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	55. blind date au

 

He chuckles, “This isn’t what I expected”, caught -not for the first time- in the subtle timidness of Sebastian’s grin, lacking the confidence of their high school days; maybe it’d never been confidence so much as it was that cocksure attitude that’d left its handprints all over their previous relationship. _Friendship_.

“What were you expecting?” Sebastian asks, a dulcet kind of sweetness to his voice that betrays his own _taken_ -ness with a date not as blind as Santana made it out to be, and not half as disastrous as he’d feared.

He smiles around a sip of wine, and shrugs; he couldn’t say what he expected once he’d laid eyes on Sebastian earlier tonight, but couldn’t deny how his anxiety left him seeing the former Warbler again.

“After all these years—”

He laughs because after all these years –after the divorce and custody battle, after the big move and a new career- whatever happened in high school hardly seemed to matter. Nevertheless he didn’t see this coming, a Sebastian softened around the edges, a smaller smile but less tightly wound, and, beyond his comprehension... still interested in him.

“—hardly matters anymore, does it, killer?” Sebastian winks, and there he is, right there, the Sebastian he remembers, the Sebastian he could relate to even after the bullying and after Kurt— the Sebastian who’s somehow, always, been there.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	56. hurt/comfort au

A quiet-like despair weighs down his chest, the room stifling and growing ever smaller. His fingers curl around Sebastian’s, more hope in his hands than currently resides in his heart, because the clock ticks seconds away like it’s purposely stealing them, syncing with the steady beat of the heart monitor and the relentless weeping of the IV drip.

“It’s been two hours.”

Blaine grinds his teeth together, steeling himself against whatever or whoever comes through that door; at least the doctors had given Sebastian a room, some privacy, some time to regain strength before the verdict came in. Enough time for him to imagine an endless stream of hospital visits, consultations with specialists, hair on the pillow.

“It’s an ER in the middle of the night,” Sebastian says, and squeezes at his hand, but it does little to assuage his worry. If he just knew, whether it was good or bad news, he could start giving this a place, start planning, turn his world right side up again. Uncertainty never did sit well with him.

“You okay?”

And after everything that happened tonight, Sebastian shouldn’t be the one asking; he’s not the one who fainted, he’s not the one struggling to gain weight or refusing to see a doctor about it. He’s not angry, or even disappointed; if anything he’s accepted defeat. Sebastian made his choices because he’s been here before, and he can’t think what it must feel like to live in fear of relapsing.

But he does wish it hadn’t come to this.

Now, he’s afraid too; afraid of bad news, afraid of what that could mean.

Afraid there won’t be enough time.

“Blaine—”

He looks down and catches his boyfriend’s eyes, bloodshot and murky with tears, and if at all possible the weight on his chest worsens, suffocates and winds fear in places it’d never gone before. Yet, in the midst of all that, he manages a small smile.

“We’ll figure this out,” he says, and draws a hand through Sebastian’s hair, thick between his fingers. “No matter what happens.”

Sebastian closes his eyes, leaning into his touch. “I need you,” he chokes out, an admission he might not have made in any other circumstance.

Leaning in he kisses Sebastian’s forehead, and places a hand over Sebastian’s heart, more hope there than anywhere else. He’s not going anywhere.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


	57. roommates au

“What is your problem?” Blaine asks, right after the front door closes behind the nameless man he spent the night with—he and Blaine stood whispering for a few minutes saying goodbye, giggling, kissing, more than likely making plans to see each other again.

He had few qualms making a show out of starting breakfast, pans and mugs and plates clattering, all in the hopes of the noise reaching over his roommate sweet-talking some guy he picked up at a bar somewhere. Even though deep down he knows their meeting probably wasn’t as trivial as that.

As soon as the door closed Blaine gave him an earful, about showing guests some respect and common courtesy, and then fell completely silent, setting the table for two. Always just for two.

“All I’m saying is I’d prefer if you told me when you’re bringing a guy home.”

“You bring guys home all the time. How is that different?”

He sighs, returning his attention to the bacon simmering on the stove, and realizes it’s different in a whole array of ways. It’s different because he doesn’t make emotional connections as easily as Blaine does; it’s different because he doesn’t have to watch the guys he sleeps with be with Blaine, hear them make him smile or moan or anything in between.

It’s different because Blaine doesn’t see his face when he lays those strangers down in his bed, not the way he sees Blaine’s in everything and everyone since the day he learned his heart beat for his roommate, and his roommate alone.

“Sebastian—”

“It’s not”—he recovers, and turns with a smile—“Forget I said anything.”

In the most painful way it’s not different at all, because he remains silent about this pull in his chest that leads him back to Blaine time and time again, and so nothing will ever change. As long as he plays it safe nothing ever will.

 

 

**\- fin -**

 


End file.
